Page 104 of Unexpected Hero

“You should really have those ready before leaving the building.”

Jump scare alert.

I jolt at the unexpected deep voice behind me. Spinning around in a flash, I press my back to my car. In the process, my purse topples to the pavement, sending the contents flying.

Classic me.

“Jesus, Lettie,” James chides me while stooping to pick up my purse.

Once the initial shock recedes, I heft in a steadying breath and join him, taking a knee to clean my mess. “I got it. Don’t worry about it.” A hiss of pain seeps out from the strain the position puts on my toes.

He pays my words no mind, rushing to scoop up my face powder compact, car keys, reading glasses, backup contact lenses, and about seventeen pens.

I like pens, okay? They’re cheaper versions of fidget spinners.

He moves so swiftly I only have time to grab a tube of lipstick.

Good to know he’s still dedicated to swooping in to save the day, in accordance with the chapter on Saving Helpless Lettie in the James Harris Operations Manual.

Without speaking, he motions for me to open my purse. He slips the remaining items in for me.

We rise to our feet, moving in sync like mirror images. Everything seems to happen in slow motion. He glances at my mouth, and I look at his. My throat bobs, then his does the same.

The pain from my toes steadily ebbs at his nearness. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I almost smile, but then I remember he’s a no-good lyin’ snake.

Pivoting on my good foot, I give him my back and beep the key fob to unlock my car. After opening the door, I chuck my purse onto the passenger seat.

As you’d expect, it promptly spills its contents again. That’s part of the Lettie Holt Operations Manual.

With a shake of my head, I meet James’s expectant gaze from over my shoulder. “Good night.”

Gently, he grazes my upper arm. “Hang on a second.”

With a resigned sigh, I obey, turning around to face him.

The tumultuous hoard of emotions battering my insides leaves me a touch queasy.

I’m angry with him for lying. I’m aroused by his very presence. I’m hurt that he felt the need to make excuses to avoid dating me in the first place.

Above all, I’m confused.

Oh. Let’s also add mega horny to the list because the sounds coming from the club tonight won’t likely be vacating my mind any time soon.

In the main room alone, there was enough exposed flesh and bodies in motion to fire up engines I didn’t know were under my hood. I can’t imagine how hot a peek into the voyeur room would make me. Probably need a fire extinguisher between my legs.

I press my lips together and let my face go lax, aiming for impassive. If he has something to say, I’m not dragging it out of him.

There’s nothing I’m ready to say to him. I succeeded in looking busy whenever he popped back into the lobby the rest of the night. And the few times I had to walk through the main room toward the restroom, my eyes were locked straight ahead so I didn’t risk seeing him talking to another woman or doing who knows what else.

Before I tell him the jig is up, I need to figure out why it matters so much. Do I really want to fight for someone who’s dishonest? Or doesn’t want me?

He finally speaks when he realizes I’m not doing the talking. “You okay?”

“I’m tired. Ready to get home.”

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